The Shadow Hunter (The Phoenix Chronicles Book 1)

by R. J. Patterson

The message was from his contact who’d been receiving copies of all the cables Edgefield considered relevant.

  No you’re not

  Beneath the message was a picture of Edgefield’s son. The implication was clear.

  Edgefield wasn’t done until they told him he was done.

  CHAPTER 20

  Yakutsk, Russia

  WHEN HAWK ARRIVED in Yakutsk, he went straight to a store and purchased a prepaid cell phone. He next withdrew a thousand dollars in cash from an ATM so he could move more freely without getting tracked. It wasn’t much, but it would have to suffice under the circumstances. After he secured a room at a dilapidated motel near downtown, he called Alex.

  “Did you make it?” she asked.

  “Finally,” he said. “Driving through the middle of Siberia makes driving across Texas seem like a trip to the local grocery store.”

  “That’s because you didn’t have me to keep you company,” she said with a laugh.

  “I needed something other than that godawful electro polka music to keep me awake. I swear I’d tell the Russians anything if they made me listen to that garbage for hours on end.”

  “Do you at least have Bollywood movies on pay-per-view in your hotel room?” she asked.

  “Motel room,” he corrected. “And I’m pretty sure that’s far too high of a production bar for this part of the world.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Most of the programming looks like it was recorded on VHS.”

  “I’m glad to hear you took time out of this mission to watch television.”

  Hawk grunted. “I only turned on the TV while I was settling in, mostly out of morbid curiosity. It’s a decision I already regret.”

  “So what’s your next move?”

  “Based on the operational briefing, the last known location for Tyson was in the Yakutsk prison.”

  “And how do you intend on getting into there? Because you better make damn sure you don’t get arrested.”

  Hawk smiled. “Me? Get arrested? Whatever would I do that would land me in prison?”

  “Hawk, stop kidding around. It wouldn’t be a joke if they detained you for any reason.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve already hidden my backup passport just in case they try to play that game. And it wouldn’t be the first time some bureaucrat took away my passport and used that as justification for keeping me in prison.”

  “Until the bribe was paid, no doubt.”

  “He never got a dime from me,” Hawk said. “That happened to be once in Romania. I told the guard that if he didn’t, when I got out I would hunt him down and he’d never get to use the money anyway. I guess I spooked him because he let me go in the morning.”

  “So what’s your plan this time?”

  “I need to talk with Mia,” Hawk said. “Can you patch me through to her?”

  “Give me a second.”

  Hawk heard a series of clicks before Mia’s smooth voice came through on the other end.

  “Agent Hawk, I’m glad to hear you’re still alive after all your misadventures in Siberia,” she said.

  “Whatever you’re hearing, it’s all a bunch of lies,” Hawk said.

  “Even the part about you single-handedly dismantling an entire drug operation run by a Russian oligarch?”

  “No, that part was mostly true,” he said.

  “Mostly?”

  “All right, that might be a small embellishment.”

  “Small embellishment?”

  “Okay, okay,” Hawk said, conceding. “That’s an outright lie, but I doubt my wife is making up stories about my exploits here.”

  “She thinks rather highly of your skills, though those of us who’ve been in the field with you know the truth.”

  Hawk chuckled. “And on cue, I have a question about some tech because I lost all my gear, and I have no idea how I’m going to create a makeshift device that will help us learn where Tyson is at the Yakutsk prison.”

  His voice continued rising, the tension clear to anyone listening.

  “Calm down, Hawk. I’m going to get you taken care of. It’s not that difficult.”

  “Not that difficult?” he asked as he stared at the water stains in the corner of the ceiling. “If it doesn’t require me shooting someone from a kilometer away or punching them in the face, I’m not your guy.”

  “False humility is so unbecoming,” Mia said. “You’re more than capable of making this little device, especially if you still have that watch Morgan gave you before you left.”

  Hawk looked at his wrist. “Believe it or not, I still have it on—and even more shocking is the fact that it still works.”

  “Excellent,” she said. “That’s going to make this simple for you.”

  Mia proceeded to rattle off a list of supplies Hawk needed to purchase before he could put together a small device on the fly. She explained that if he did it right, he’d be able to connect his watch to the device that would enable her to gain access to the prison computer system. Once inside, she could help Hawk determine where Tyson was being held and scheme a way to get him out. That is, if Tyson was still alive.

  Two hours later, Hawk had assembled the device and tested it on the motel’s computer system. In a matter of minutes, Mia discovered that Ivan Antonov was staying two doors down from Hawk and had the room rented for just an hour.

  “That ought to let you know what kind of place I’m staying in,” Hawk said.

  “Swanky,” Mia said. “I can only imagine how tasty that gourmet breakfast is every morning.”

  Hawk eyed a rat darting across the hallway near the closet containing the meager computer system.

  “This little gadget works fine on this piece of junk, but do you think it’ll work on a more complex system?” he asked.

  “As long as the information is getting relayed to your watch, this is all I need. I’ll be able to hack in and tell you what size underwear the warden wears.”

  Hawk sighed. “You people scare me.”

  Mia giggled. “You should be very afraid, especially when you set ‘I hate Tech nerds 45%’ as your password.”

  “Now, why would you take offense at that?” Hawk asked as he disconnected the device. “I can see you getting upset if it’s like eight-five or ninety percent. But forty-five? That’s less than half. Nobody is going to get mad about that.”

  “I know one hacker who drained a ninety-two-year-old woman’s bank account for the password ‘HackersStink2’. You gotta remember, these were the kids who got made fun of and bullied years ago. Now, they can use their skills to capture any little piece of information about you that they want. You really should be mortified—and never use a computer again.”

  “Case in point—what we’re about to do at the Yakutsk prison,” Hawk said as he unlocked the door to his room.

  “Exactly,” Mia said.

  “So now the fun part,” Hawk said. “How am I going to get inside without having to get arrested?”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” she said.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING, Hawk crouched behind a dumpster in a back alley, waiting for the Federated Uniforma van driver to emerge from the building before sunrise. After about ten minutes, just as Mia had promised, a young man shuffled to the door. Hawk grabbed him from behind, placing him in a sleeper hold. Once he was out, Hawk shoved the man into the van. When they arrived to their motel room, Hawk fastened the man to a chair, blindfolding and gagging him.

  Hawk proceeded to drive to the prison, taking over the man’s route. His first scheduled stop was at a bakery on the outskirts of town. After he’d gathered all the dirty linens from there, Hawk drove to the famed Yakutsk prison. It was known for its remote location, making escaping an exercise in futility. Even if someone managed to break out, there wasn’t anywhere to go. And Yakutsk wasn’t big enough to hide forever. Eventually, someone would report the escapee to the authorities and earn a large bonus in the process.

  When Hawk arrived at the
prison, he flashed the man’s badge and was waved through without even a second glass. His hat was pulled down low across his face, his profile darkened by the shadow cast by the cap’s bill.

  Once he pulled up to the loading dock, he was greeted by one of the prison staff, who rolled a large basket teeming with uniforms. Hawk was prepared to enter but not to handle an interloper that could spoil his operation. With the window of opportunity closing, Hawk realized he had to act fast.

  “Excuse me,” Hawk said in Russian. “The warden said he had a special garment he wanted us to pick up for him. Can you fetch that for me?”

  The man nodded before turning around and lumbering down the hallway.

  Once he’d disappeared around the corner, Hawk entered the prison and hustled down a long corridor until he reached the server room. The area was packed with wires connecting various servers to each other, while a large bundle of wires ascended into a small hole cut out of the ceiling.

  Hawk whipped out the device and attached it to the wire. After activating his watch to initiate the connection, he called Mia.

  “Are you in yet?” Hawk asked.

  “Almost,” she said. “Give me three more seconds and … done.”

  Hawk peered into the hallway to see if anyone was heading toward him. He eased the door shut and waited for Mia to perform her magic. He leaned against the wall and strained to listen to the approaching footsteps outside. By the pace and heavy footfalls, Hawk determined it was the staff member who’d just helped him, likely returning with the news that the warden didn’t have anything to collect.

  “Come on, come on,” Hawk said.

  “Still looking for it,” she said.

  “Just hurry it up, will ya? If you don’t, I’m going to be the one in here on a more permanent basis.”

  Hawk heard the man in the hall calling for him. The footsteps became more harried and frantic. Instead of lumbering, he was sprinting up and down the corridor.

  “I’m not seeing it,” she said.

  “He may be under a different name,” Hawk suggested. “Try matching a picture to Tyson.”

  Hawk heard the man start checking every door and calling for him. “And make it snappy. I’m about to get caught.”

  Based on how loudly the doors were shutting, Hawk guessed that the man was three doors away.

  “Okay, I got it,” she said. “His new name is Dimitri Sokolova, and he’s not imprisoned anymore.”

  “Then how the hell am I gonna find him?” Hawk asked.

  “This file just so happens to have an address for him,” Mia said. “He’s in a special group called ‘Fight Night’.”

  Two doors down now.

  “Text it to me,” Hawk said, his heart in his throat. “I have to go.”

  He ended the call and then disconnected the device from the computer. Then he waited until he heard the next door open. When it did, Hawk sprinted down the corridor near the entrance and shouted for the man when he re-emerged from the other room.

  “There you are,” Hawk said, calming his nerves as quickly as he could. “I went to the restroom. Did you place the warden’s items in the van?”

  The man scowled. “I was looking everywhere for you, but you weren’t anywhere to be found.”

  “I’m sorry. My mistake.”

  He spun on his heels and returned to his van. In less than a minute, he was off the premises. He dialed Mia again.

  “I take it you made it out,” she said.

  “And in one piece, too.”

  “Good,” she said. “I just sent you the address. Good luck.”

  Hawk returned to his motel room to transport the delivery man a half-mile away before strapping him behind the steering wheel and removing his bindings. When he exited the vehicle, demanding to know why this had been done to him, Hawk was walking briskly along the sidewalk and never looked back.

  He had an old friend to visit.

  CHAPTER 21

  Washington, D.C.

  PRESIDENT NORRIS’S RESPONSE to North Korea’s literal shot across the bow of the U.S.S. Roosevelt had been swift and harsh. At General Miller’s urging, Norris-ordered Navy jets scrambled into the air to attack a small North Korean destroyer. In a matter of minutes, the vessel sank, and the tension had been escalating ever since.

  As Norris convened a cabinet meeting along with the Joint Chiefs of Staff in the situation room, he pondered if he should go through with his plan. In such a grave moment, engaging in spy craft seemed like a foolish move. But he couldn’t have someone leaking all of the inner workings of his administration, especially with the election looming. Someone was not only trying to take him out politically, but they were also trying to undermine what authority he held for the rest of the term. The former struck at his pride, but the latter would hurt the American people, which was not something Norris would ignore.

  Since the sinking of the North Korean destroyer, a standoff developed in the Pacific Ocean between the U.S. and Kim Yong-ju’s troops. No more shots had been fired, but naval vessels from both countries had grown. This development had General Miller frothing to initiate more action.

  “Sir, I’d like to begin by saying that I think you’re doing an excellent job of directing our military in these uncertain times,” Miller said. “I believe striking back was the right thing to do and apparently called Kim Yong-ju’s bluff.”

  Norris wagged his finger at Miller. “Let’s not be so quick to declare anything definitively at this point. It’s only been a little over twenty-four hours since this all began. And I suspect our friends in North Korea aren’t inclined to let this be the end of it.”

  “Their military is a house of cards,” Miller said. “We could obliterate them right now.”

  “Of course we could, but just because we can, does that make it right?” The president turned toward Barbara Wheeler. “What do you think, Madam Secretary?”

  “I think we need to tread lightly here, Mr. President,” she said. “Looking at this through the lens of diplomacy, I see two heavyweight fighters who’ve—”

  “There’s only one heavyweight in this fight,” Miller interrupted. “North Korea is more like a fly weight fighter trying to step into the ring with a behemoth.”

  Wheeler glared at Miller. “Are you finished?”

  An awkward silence filled the room before she continued.

  “I see two heavyweight fighters who’ve both landed the punches they hoped to in the opening seconds of the round. But for various reasons, neither wants to go on the offensive. For North Korea, it’d be great shame for Kim Yong-ju to lose to the U.S. military, which is exactly what will happen should he engage us. For the U.S., the world would view us as a bully. With nothing to gain through a military victory, I propose we consider another route.”

  “I’m all ears,” Norris said.

  “I think we can leverage this situation into a big win for us diplomatically as well as militarily,” she said. “First, we invite Japan in to broker peace between us and North Korea. That will score us points as far as letting another country with a vested interest in peace in that region lead the talks. Second, we make great concessions to Kim Yong-ju as well, enabling him to save face with his people and appear to drive a hard bargain. He’ll be able to boast about his negotiating skills to North Korean citizens and we’ll get the benefit of having avoided an unpopular military conflict.”

  Norris placed a toothpick into his mouth, acting as if he was pondering her suggestion. The truth is he’d already made up his mind long before he entered the room. Deep down, he felt a little guilty for calling a big meeting in the situation room for a charade. But he had to make sure there wasn’t any way the cable his office was about to send could be construed as fraudulent.

  “Sir, with all due respect,” Miller began, “this seems like a giant step backward to me. We have North Korea where we want them. They’re shaking in their boots, fully aware that picking a fight with us is a losing proposition. There’s no need to concede any ground
to them.”

  Several other generals echoed Miller’s comments, affirming his position.

  Norris nodded at one of his aides, who passed out a report about a survey conducted by White House strategists.

  “While you’re studying these numbers, keep in mind that our goal is to serve the interests of the American people,” Norris said. “And while I believe that keeping citizens safe is important, there are multiple ways to accomplish this that don’t include bombing the hell out of North Korea.”

  One of the other generals shrugged. “Invading them would be a boondoggle, not to mention there’s little of value there. We wouldn’t get anything out of it.”

  “We don’t make decisions to engage in conflict just to get something out of it,” Norris said, his eyes narrowing. “At least, that’s not how this administration is going to act. But just look at the numbers on that page, do you think the American people want to go to war with North Korea? Almost everyone seems to regard him as a narcissist who has a high level of self-importance.”

  “And he also has the capability of causing great harm to the American people,” Miller said.

  “Where’s the proof?” Norris fired back. “We supposedly have the greatest intelligence agency in the world, yet not a single one of them can provide us with any actionable intel that Kim Yong-ju has what he claims to have. When he gets nuclear weapons, this conversation will be entirely different. Until then, I’m not about to drag us into another conflict like Vietnam with nothing to win and everything to lose, primarily starting with the lives of American soldiers.”

  Norris perused the handout indicating that more than eighty-five percent of Americans were against another conflict. He held up the paper.

  “This shows that people like peace and prosperity—and they want to keep it. I’m not willing to jeopardize that on the hunch that North Korea might have nukes.”

  “So what are you going to do?” Miller asked.

  “I like the Secretary’s plan,” Norris said. “And that’s how we’re going to proceed. Engage North Korea with peace talks in Tokyo.”

  Miller scowled. “This is a horrible idea, sir.”